


Falling to Pieces

by solarift



Category: Kingsman, Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M, Not betad, laughed hard when i went to write James|Lancelot and it came up Original Lancelot x3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:23:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarift/pseuds/solarift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lancelot’s life was a tragic but necessary casualty in this war,” the man had said.</p><p>Percival knew that fault always played a part in death and, in his line of work, it always came by way of people. And whoever was to blame for Lancelot's death... </p><p>They WOULD pay dearly for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling to Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Kingsman and make no money off this piece of fiction.

He had known from the beginning what it would mean to take on the mantel of Percival, never mind the sorts seedy jobs this particular position would require him to fulfill. And he accepted it with little thought when he was sworn into Kingsman as the new Percival back in 1997.

While Galahad was Arthur’s right-hand and most trusted agent, Percival was Arthur’s left-hand and was generally used as the wild card among operatives of not only Kingsman but other international intelligence agencies as well.

His missions were ones usually unbefitting of what a Kingsman agent stood for; killing when needed is something all of them have been trained for and have done for the right reason, like sacrificing someone to save others. But when Percival killed someone it was typically not for the right reasons and regularly included copious amounts of torture.

There were other crimes and monstrous acts he’d committed in the 17 years he’d been a part of Kingsman and he’d sooner go to Hell via the Express Lane before he’d ever confess those acts to someone, not even if God Himself stood before him and offered him the chance to go to Heaven if he’d just speak those sins aloud.

Even after all these years he knew that what his job entailed was wrong but he also knew someone had to fulfill the role of Percival; if not him it would be someone else, and with the them they would bring the possibility of that person bringing shame to the title.

So he, Augustine Clarence Briar, had accepted everything that came with the title of Percival when he was 20 years old, he took an oath to complete the dark and questionable tasks he was assigned with precision and success. He vowed to do his job regardless if it might one day require anything from torturing to the murder or assassination of an assigned target. And he swore a secrecy pact that he would keep not only his assignment objectives carefully guarded but also the extent of his particular set of “talents”. The only one who knew of the nature of his missions was Arthur, and the only one who knew of his deadly skills was Merlin.

It was all kept quiet so that the ideology of Kingsman wasn’t tarnished; so the other agents would go about their jobs with the proper mindset that they were a part of an organization that was just. And while their work was mostly true to the Kingsman philosophy there were times where they couldn’t be unbiased nor could they be without blame.

That was the basis of what Percival’s position in the Kingsman was; one who would complete the dirtier missions and take the most depraved parts and secrets of the agency with him to the grave. It was a position that gave as equal loyalty to their philosophy as Galahad’s but one that was much darker in prospect.

Which is probably why Arthur, prior to summoning the other agents, informed Percival os what his next mission would be.

The man began by confiding in Percival of his recent involvement with a man named Richmond Valentine and that he supported the philanthropist’s “new world cleansing” movement and hoped Percival would aid him in their plans. Arthur’s request was not one of hope but one he already knew the answer to; he knew Percival had no other choice but to accept.

At Percival’s nod Arthur continued to explain his part in Valentine’s scheme. It wasn’t until the whole rubbish plan was unfolded that Percival said, “I understand, Sir” before he asked whose body he would be retrieving and from where.

“James’,” the man began with what could have seemed like an ounce of regret to someone who didn’t know him as well as Percival did. Arthur trailed off before he began again. “Lancelot’s life was a tragic but necessary casualty in this war and your assignment is to go to southern Argentina, in the Andes mountains, to retrieve his body. Valentine said they’d left it there once they’d found out who he worked for.”

Percival’s heart skidded and lurched in his chest as the air punched out of him. He composed himself in record time before he asked with as little emotion as possible - because the answer was far more important than some rubbish movement - “Was Valentine the one who murdered Lancelot?”

“No, one of his assistants- can’t remember her name, an animal of some sort – was the one that intercepted Lancelot; he was simply in the right place at the wrong time. As I said before, his death was tragic, but Valentine didn’t know who he was or who he worked for up until Lancelot’s vital signs flat lined and sent out a distress call to HQ. That’s when Valentine’s instruments picked the signal up and traced it back to us. He came to me personally to offer his condolences and informed me of his plan,” Arthur explained coolly. “The reason I’m giving you this missions is because the sooner Lancelot’s body is back in Britain the better; it would be a great pain if the Broderick family became suspicious and stuck their noses where they shouldn’t. Do you understand?”

Percival’s incredible self-control was the only thing keeping him in check when all he wanted to do was fall into the warring feelings inside himself. He wondered if Arthur was sending him on this mission for more than he let on. Did he know what Percival and Lancelot meant to each other outside of Kingsman or was he simply arrogant enough to think Percival was so unfailingly loyal to him that he wouldn’t question the death of one of his agents or the mass genocide Valentine was planning?

He nodded in mock understanding, tight lipped and face impassive.

“Excellent,” Arthur said, his proud smile turning Percival’s insides as he slipped on his glasses and said, “Merlin, assemble the Kingsman.” And with that the red Kingsman symbol was sent out to all agents. It was red to signal a death among a Kingsman operative and it blinked rapidly to signal immediate assemblage of those who were receiving it.

Eyes carefully facing forward, Percival refused to look over at the seat next to him that would be empty for this meeting and waited as patiently as he could - patience wasn’t something he was really known for among his associates – as the other agents arrived via telecom holograms.

He watched with keen eyes as Arthur’s hologram poured his portion of drink from where he was in London before he had to look away. He tapped his foot against the leg of the table, mentally urging the other agents to hurry the hell up so they could get this fucking toast over with and he could remove his glasses and shoot someone, something, an animal, a child, he wasn’t picky right now, and if he thought he could get away with it he’d shoot Arthur were they in the same vicinity. All he wanted to do was break the oath he made when he took this position back in 1997, to tell Merlin what he’d learned from Arthur’s betrayal.

But he couldn’t break his silence. Not only because of his oath – though truly, fuck his oath – but because if he wanted to avenge James he would have to see Arthur and Valentine’s whole goddamn plan through.

Gawain’s hologram figure suddenly appeared, taking his seat on the left side of Lancelot’s. The man’s usually handsome face was pinched as he looked at the agents that were present, starting on his left and making his way around the rest of the table. His gaze paused at Galahad’s empty seat, brows drawing up before he let his eyes move to Arthur, Percival, and finally stopping at Lancelot’s empty chair and Percival’s, surely, withdrawn expression. 

Out of the corner of his eyes Percival studied Gawain. If his colleagues found out about his plan to murder Arthur, Percival was fairly certain that out of all of them Gawain would at least give him a chance to speak his bit before passing sentence. The other agents, however… Well, the others would probably kill him before giving him the courtesy of confessing. But he wouldn’t let that stray thought deter him.

Even if his death was the outcome he would see everything through before the other Kingsman could either interrogate or kill him, and he would most certainly destroy Arthur slowly before his own end. He’d put all of his training in the art of pain to good use, and, OH, the things he would do that not even Arthur could comprehend would draw the most satisfactory sounds from the old codgers bloody throat. And it’d truly be music to his fucking ears. He would make sure Arthur knew why the agents that had carried the name Percival were the most dangerous of any Kingsmen, past and most certainly present.

But for this all to come to fruition, for that itch to be scratched, he could not afford to lose his focus and he hadn’t in the meeting that commenced, not even when Galahad had strolled into the room late, not even when Arthur dismissed them.

Coming back from his dark fantasies, Percival found himself back in the present, looking around at the small team that accompanied him to Argentina as they checked the perimeter for any lingering threats before examining the many bodies strewn across the floor. Strangely enough, the deceased had sheets draped over them.

The group of people that had come with him, while not Kingsmen, were vital parts of the organization that often tended to incidents that required a quiet and stealth cleanup. Some of the Kingsmen jokingly referred to them as The Cleaners.

“Merlin, this is Percival,” he said softly, communicating through his glasses. It’d be best to await the handler’s instructions before allowing his eyes to wander the floor in search of Lancelot’s body.

That decision was harder than Percival let on at the moment. While he kept his cool demeanor on the outside he was the complete opposite within, insides roiling with fear and anger, seeing no reason why he shouldn’t be looking around for Lanc- for James. James who’d been an unforgiving thorn in his side through their shared candidacy before they joined Kingsman, who he’d come to respect within the privacy of his own mind as they grew into their codenames. James who had eventually become so much more to him when…

But Percival didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on his own grief right now. He stared around the room, absently watching as the cleaners took samples of things, and recited his mission again and again, as if that would keep him from thinking of how lost he was.

Retrieve Lancelot’s body. Retrieve the man that had-

There was a buzz from his glasses, signaling that the Handler had successfully received his transmission.

“10-4. I’ve switched us to a secure channel. What’s your 20, Percival?” came Merlin’s voice. His accent was even thicker than usual which could only mean one thing; there was trouble at HQ.

“We’ve arrived at the scene. The perimeter is secure and the bodies all seem to be intact and undisturbed.”

“What count do we have? Any signs of life?”

Percival knew Merlin wanted to know, more specifically, about the state of James’ body. He took a moment, surveying the room as quickly and as objectively as possible.

“6 unknown subjects and Lancelot have been accou…” he trailed off as he caught the eye of one of the doctors in his assemblage. “Just a moment, Merlin.”

The doctor looked under one of the blankets and at the body beneath it before moving onto another one and repeating the same process. She looked back at Percival and shook her head.

“Dear God…” Percival exhaled hauntingly, all the air leaving his lungs in that one breath.

“Percival, report! What is going on!” Merlin called over the comm link, his voice stern but tinged with concern.

Percival had to take a moment to gather himself before daring to answer. “I… apologize, Merlin. The count of unknown subjects is 5, Dr. Schied has just identified Lancelot. I’m sending the video feed to you now.”

A deafening silence thrummed against his ears as Merlin cut off transmission to view the feed from not only Percival’s recordings but the doctor’s as well. He seemed to have the grace to mute any expletives of his own.

“Video feeds have been received and reviewed. I will go through them in further detail later,” Merlin finally conveyed.

A brief moment of stillness gave either of them a tick of respite from falling into instinct and theorizing how and why James was murdered. Percival cleared his throat. “Merlin, I’d like to request a progress report on what you’ve found so far.”

“Of course. Lancelot had been investigating a group of mercenaries who have been experimenting with biological weaponry for the last few years. He was in Argentina on a lead but the intel we received was apparently faulty. Instead of finding one of the mercenary’s bases of operations he found a small group of them holding a captive.

“Lancelot’s final transmission was that the kidnap victim was someone by the name of Professor James Arnold from Imperial College in London, a climate change doomsayer who supports something called Gaia theory, which is roughly something about the world healing itself or some such.

“However, I found out earlier today that Professor Arnold was seen by video cameras outside of his institute earlier today. Arthur assigned the case to Galahad and he confronted Professor Arnold at the school this afternoon. The encounter didn’t go according to plan and left Galahad indisposed. He was nonresponsive by the time we reached him and the MRI showed no trauma to his brain, so we aren’t sure what has put him in a coma.”

“What would even cause such a thing in the first place?” Percival questioned. Galahad was the longest standing Kingsman just after Arthur, and they haven’t survived this long by making foolish mistakes.

“To put it as accurately as possible, Professor Arnold’s head blew up. The radius of the blast was concentrated enough to affect the closest thing to him,” Merlin said heavily.

“The closest thing being Galahad. What then caused the professor’s head to…” said incredulously.

“To explode like a piñata? Trust me on this, Percival, I couldn’t make something like this up,” Merlin offered, keys tapping on his end of the transmission.

Percival resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just barely. He continued on dryly, “Your crass response leads me to believe you have no idea.” The Cleaners were almost finished accounting for all the evidence and body parts. It was almost time to return home.

“Indeed, we aren’t sure but I’ve got med tech on it for the time being. For now though…”

“For now it seems all we know is that we don’t know who took Professor Arnold and then apparently let him go nor do we know if it was the same person who killed Lancelot,” Percival surmised. He knew who did all of this but it wasn’t time yet to involve other agents. “We additionally know, apparently, that Galahad is not as invincible as many agents have been led to believe.”

“I don’t know about Harry being invincible but we have our suspicions on who might be behind all of this; so far though none of them have followed through. I also believe all of the cases of dignitaries and political figures going missing is quite possibly related. For now, however, your orders are to complete your current mission and then await further instruction before acting. That means no going rogue on us,” the Scot said with an air of jest but beneath that thin façade was complete and utter seriousness.

Percival didn’t feel the need to even dignify that with a response as he signaled the team around him to finish gathering the bodies littering the floor. He turned away as they picked up the first part of Lancelot. There was only a few minutes of silence before Merlin started speaking again, this time with more familiarity.

“I mean it, Augustine. Do not go out on your own and look for them. From the little we know about them and the fact that they were able to take out Lancelot and Galahad should be enough to tell you that whoever they are, they are very, very dangerous. Do not make me send another agent out to find your body.”

Percival scoffed, an unintended hiccup stuttering it to a stop in his somewhat delirious state.

I mean it, Augustine echoed in his ears. He shook his head at the strangeness of hearing that name; it was difficult some days to even remember that before he was Percival he was Augustine. Augustine Clarence Briar to be more exact.

Right now though, while taking a final look around the South American mansion and moving to follow the rest of the crew to the plan, he had to be Percival, the left-hand of Arthur and not as the man who’d just lost his best friend of the better part of 17 years.

He came back to the present. “I’ll take care of the rest,” Augus- _Percival _said with finality. He was vicious strength now not a mourning man.

“Very well, good luck. Check-in after you return to London,” Merlin said, voice somber yet encouraging.

After all, he would be the one returning James’ body. He would be the one explaining to James’ family that their son Jaime was dead, that they wouldn’t be able to publicize his heroics after dying in the line of duty in the papers never mind the fact that they wouldn’t be able to see his body one final time.

He would be the one retuning home in pieces along with the body of his best friend and lover, James Winston Broderick.

Note: I used some CB code aka radio lingo. 10-4 means “Ok, message received” and 10-20 means “My location is… or, What’s your location”. Also I liked writing this but please don’t kill me?

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on tumblr (solarrift) and see some crappy images I tried to put together for my fics haha! Also check out my fic "A Pug's Life" here on Ao3 if you like silly and cracky Kingsman fics :S


End file.
